


In the Air Tonight

by ReneeMR



Category: Highlander
Genre: First Time, Highlander - Freeform, Joe - Freeform, M/M, MacLeod - Freeform, Methos/MacLeod - Freeform, methos - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-10-06
Updated: 2001-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-04 03:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReneeMR/pseuds/ReneeMR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Methos and Duncan on the day before and morning of 'Comes a Horseman.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Air Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

I can feel it coming in the air tonight, Oh Lord  
I've been waiting for this moment, all my life, Oh Lord  
Can you feel it coming in the air tonight, Oh Lord, Oh Lord  
\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The oldest man in the world sat alone in the bar listening to the jukebox. Oh, yeah, he thought. It's been coming. Two years. Two long years. Posing, posturing, flirting, advancing. And now a retreat. Again. Crap.

Methos gazed down into the glass of single malt. Gods, he really was pathetic. He was drinking Scotch. Because. Because it's what he drank? He drained the dregs from the glass and set it down with a bang.

Damn the Highlander.

He was tired. Tired of pulling the Scot's ass out of the fire. Okay, he had to admit it was a mighty fine ass. And MacLeod had done the same for him a time or two. Methos wondered. Had his ass ever been noticed?

Now, that was an interesting.

"Argh," Methos said aloud.

And he hated, loathed and despised being cast as the sidekick. Did he look like Barney Fucking Fife? Hell, even Richie didn't want the gig. Or Joe. He grinned.

They certainly weren't the Three Musketeers. The Three Stooges was more like it. And come to think of it--there had been at least four Stooges.

Methos was thinking back over the last few weeks roller-coaster ride that was MacLeod's life. Yeah. First the mess with the false-Methos and Richie. Then the disaster with the Henning woman. It had been a righteous kill. She'd been all set to murder hundreds of mortals. With a bloody bomb no less.

Just then a hand clapped down on the old man's shoulder and he jumped straight up fumbling for his coat and his gun.

"Adam!"

"Joe!"

"What?" they both said at the same time. "Sorry." They both laughed.

"So, what's up, Joe?"

"Seen Mac lately?" He noticed Methos' frown. "No. Well, I think I have an idea of how to get him out of his Highland funk."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
Well, if you told me you were drowning  
I would not lend a hand  
I've seen your face before my friend  
But I don't know if you know who I am  
Well, I was there and I saw what you did  
I saw it with my own two eyes  
So you can wipe off the grin, I know where you've been  
It's all been a pack of lies  
\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Methos walked in and stopped abruptly.

"Who are you, and what have you done with Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod."

The man sitting at the bar wearing just his briefs--and eating Cocoa Puffs--looked over at Methos. "I'm his evil identical cousin, Dexter."

"What do you want, Methos."

*You*. The older immortal arranged himself artlessly on the couch "Whoever she is, MacLeod, she must be damn good."

"Mumph."

"Look at this place! It's after five in the afternoon. The bed's not made. You haven't had a shower or shaved." His voice trailed off as the Scot got up and dumped the bowl in the sink. Methos fidgeted and rearranged himself.

"So?"

"I have something to show you, MacLeod." Methos started to reach into his jeans pocket. And suddenly his posture turned quite provocative.

MacLeod flushed and stared. Unable--unwilling?--to look away. "Methos!" He moved toward the man without thinking what he was doing.

"What?" He reached up to hand the Scot two pieces of cardboard.

"Tickets?"

"For a show. I thought you could go with me."

"Oh."

"Oh, what MacLeod?" Methos looked at the younger man sharply. Then he smiled and his hazel eyes glinted. "You thought I was coming on to you!"

"Did noh!"

"Yes you did. You think I want to seduce you."

"Come on, Methos. Enough with the joke. I know you. You've had how many wives? And Alexa. And what, thousands of lovers?"

Methos smiled. "That can be quite a generic term, 'lover.' For god's sake, MacLeod. I'm 5000 years old. I've had lots of time for experimentation. And so have you." The grin grew wider.

"Oh." Fucking Watchers and their fucking chronicles. "And I suppose you think you could seduce me?"

"I know I could."

"What?!"

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
And I can feel it coming in the air tonight, Oh Lord  
I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, Oh Lord  
I can feel it in the air tonight, Oh Lord, Oh Lord  
And I've been waiting for this moment all my life, Oh Lord, Oh Lord  
\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Methos hadn't realized he'd spoken the fatal words of challenge aloud at first. He was too busy admiring the way MacLeod looked when he was all tensed up. Yeah, the same look he got practicing his katas. He bet he looked like that when...

Well, maybe he would find out. He took off his coat and laid it on the sofa.

"What do you say, MacLeod. Want to take my bet?"

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
Well I remember, I remember don't worry  
How could I ever forget, it's the first time, the last time we ever met  
But I know the reason why you keep your silence up, no you don't fool me  
The hurt doesn't show; but the pain still grows  
It's no stranger to you or me  
\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Highlander stared at him. This tall, gawky, outrageous, irreverent,  
guy-who-was-really-the-oldest-man-in-the-world. Since the first moment he'd seen him and known--and hadn't that been a shock--that this kid (yeah, he'd thought he was a kid) was *The* Methos, he'd thought about it. Sex. With Methos.

Danger! Danger! Danger!

MacLeod swallowed hard. "Yes," he said softly. "I want you."

Danger! Danger! Danger!

Methos nodded. "I want you. But first things first. Shower. Shave." He shooed the Highlander off, then went to work.

He didn't have time to clean. But he did manage to hide most of the mess. Smiling and humming he went around lighting candles. Found the incense he was positive MacLeod had. Then laughed. Cinnamon.

The shower stopped and Methos realized time was running out. He debated changing the bed linens. Then grinned to himself. MacLeod could do it in the morning.

He settled for just neatening the bed, folding back the comforter. Plumping and arranging the pillows. Methos heard the water in the sink stop and he quickly skinned out of his clothes and folded them into a pile on the floor. He slipped into bed and modestly covered himself with the sheet.

MacLeod stepped out of the bath into the dimly lit loft and walked toward the bed.

The old immortal felt his heart give a series of double-thumps. And he'd thought a clothed MacLeod was something! He reached over and pulled back the sheet. Opening the bed to his lover. 'Lover.' That sounded damned fine. Methos felt a sudden dizziness and leaned back against the pillows. MacLeod saw his eyes roll back in his head and leaped to his side.

"Methos! Methos!"

"Ah, gods, MacLeod," he whispered. "Is it really you? 'Cause..."

The Highlander laughed. "No, it's Dexter." He leaned down and kissed Methos. Their first kiss.

"Mmmh. Who's seducing whom, old man?"

Methos looked up into chocolate-brown eyes. "Does it matter? As long as it's done?" He smiled then, and reached for the other man.

Their first caresses were gentle. Tantalizing. Promising. Methos ran his hands over the Scot's body. MacLeod, he thought, this was MacLeod. In all his glory. Just for him. He wanted more. Kissing was good. Touching was good. Tasting would be better.

Methos licked the fresh-shaved jaw and throat. He could feel the heat of blood flowing just under the skin he nuzzled. He hummed in delight and MacLeod shuddered. He moved his head to capture the full lips with his.

The kiss left them both gasping. MacLeod sighed a little when Methos moved away, but then realized where that luscious tongue and mouth were heading. He clutched the sheets and arched up in anticipation.

And was promptly rewarded when Methos reached his cock and took him in hand, pumping his already steely shaft. At the first touch of his mouth on the engorged head MacLeod swore softly and gripped the sheet tighter. His knees fell apart and he rolled his head on the pillows.

A contented 'hmmm,' sounded around his erection, as Methos took in more of the Highlander.

"Not...fair... Want..." No, it was more than just want. He desperately needed to reciprocate. Groaning, he pulled away from Methos and moved around  
on the bed.

"Old trite but true '69,' eh MacLeod?" Methos had rolled to his side and was grinning at his lover.

"Would you just shut up?"

"Make me?"

"Oh, yes, I think I can do that."  
\+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

MacLeod woke up alone. He smiled at the memory of the night before. But it was a rather sad smile. He got up and went into the galley.

Methos. The Eighth Wonder of the Ancient World. They'd just spent the past 12 hours fucking like rabbits. Now, would he run for cover like a scared rabbit?

Then he saw the note and the ticket leaning up against the box of Cocoa Puffs. "'Wheel of History,'" he said aloud.

MacLeod felt a frisson that raised goose-flesh all over his body...  
\+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

Methos smiled as he got into his vehicle. He still tingled with MacLeod--Duncan's presence. He had plans to make for their next meeting.

MacLeod. The brooding son of the Highlands boy scout. They'd just spent the past 12 hours fucking like rabbits. The oaf probably thought he would run for cover like a scared rabbit.

He took out the ticket, mate to the one he'd left at the loft, and looked at it. "'Wheel of History,'" he said aloud.

Methos felt prescience sweep over him and shivered despite the warmth of the  
day.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
And I can feel it coming in the air tonight, Oh Lord...  
_____________________________

I can feel it coming in the air tonight, Oh Lord  
I've been waiting for this moment, all my life, Oh Lord  
Can you feel it coming in the air tonight, Oh Lord, Oh Lord

Well, if you told me you were drowning  
I would not lend a hand  
I've seen your face before my friend  
But I don't know if you know who I am  
Well, I was there and I saw what you did  
I saw it with my own two eyes  
So you can wipe off the grin, I know where you've been  
It's all been a pack of lies

And I can feel it coming in the air tonight, Oh Lord  
I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, Oh Lord  
I can feel it in the air tonight, Oh Lord, Oh Lord  
And I've been waiting for this moment all my life, Oh Lord, Oh Lord

Well I remember, I remember don't worry  
How could I ever forget, it's the first time, the last time we ever met  
But I know the reason why you keep your silence up, no you don't fool me  
The hurt doesn't show; but the pain still grows  
It's no stranger to you or me

And I can feel it coming in the air tonight, Oh Lord...

In The Air Tonight by Phil Collins

 

The End


End file.
